Chapter 153: Blood-Sucking Monster (6)
The Native Americans were busy again today.
Not long after they had successfully driven away the white ranchers who came to invade, a young Native American man—an unfamiliar face—came running hurriedly out of the reservation. He found Karl in the crowd and spoke to the old man in a low voice for a few moments.
Afterward, Karl waved to the surrounding Native residents, gathering them around him and giving a few instructions.
Once the crowd dispersed, just like yesterday, they headed to their respective farms, drove some livestock out of their barns, and brought them into the reservation.
From beginning to end, everything was shrouded in mystery—no one knew what they were doing.
The Winton tribe’s reservation was not open to outsiders, and Everly had no intention of trespassing, so as not to provoke the Native Americans’ displeasure. In any case, once today passed and tomorrow arrived, she would be able to ask for the information she wanted. There was no need to risk complications at the last moment.
In the afternoon, it was a rare day without snow. Since Karl had gone to the reservation and there was no one to keep Old John company, the three of them decided not to stay cooped up in Karl’s house. Instead, they got into their rented car and went for a drive around the area.
The village lay near the edge of the Great Plains of Yanifly State. To the east and south were all farms; to the west stretched a coastal saline-alkali land; and to the north stood a mountain range called the Dekakulo Mountains, extending from southwest to northeast. This range intersected with the Iramore Mountains in distant Dwight State, and on the map, the two together roughly formed a mirrored “卜”-like shape.
The Kamas River, which irrigated vast areas in the northern Great Plains, originated at the foot of the Dekakulo Mountains.